ashes to ashes
by citric acid fire
Summary: When Masaya hurts Ichigo, Zakuro has to confront her past, Minto falls into a nightmare, Lettuce becomes depressed, and Pudding needs a break, who can put their lives back together?
1. beer and darkness

Ichigo walked down the street briskly. It was dark, and all sorts of people crowded the sidewalks. Ichigo had lost Masaya a little while ago, and now she was looking for him.

Her parents would never let her out this late. But They were visiting Ichigo's aunt Tabitha. They weren't due back for a day or so.

"Masaya," called Ichigo, keeping her voice quiet enough that none of the drunks hanging around would hear. Ichigo shuddered as she passed a girl who didn't look much older than herself, sitting in front of a bar, drinking bourbon and looking at the world with lost eyes.

"Masaya?" Ichigo asked again, a little louder. She could have sworn that for a split second she saw Masaya's blue jacket just ahead of her. She rushed forwards to look around. the buildings began to become more worn down.

Ichigo stared into a wide alley and could have sworn she saw a man with a haircut like Masaya's. "Masaya?" she asked, peering into the shadows.

"Ichigo," said a warm, slurred voice. For a second it didn't register. But when it did, she openly gaped. 'Masaya?' It couldn't be! It must be some kid from her school or something! Masaya didn't drink.

"Ichigo," an arm reached out of the darkness, reeking of alcohol. Ichigo couldn't help but notice that the jacket sleeve was the same as Masaya's. 'It is him,' she thought. 'But I thought he didn't drink! what's going on? I don't understand! he can't be drunk!'

"There you are!" he said, leaning forwards. His breath smelled like beer. "I was looking for you. I wish you transformed into a mew more often. I love that mew outfit of yours. It looks good on you." Ichigo fought the urge to recoil in fear and disgust.

"M-masaya," she said. "You- You're drunk." It was a statement, not a question.

"Nah," said Masaya. "I just had a beer or two with Damian and his friends." Damien was the school quarterback.

"You look hot in those clothes," Masaya slurred absently. he leaned onto Ichigo, resting his elbow into her chest. Ichigo wished she hadn't chosen that day to wear her purple spaghetti strap with the denim miniskirt that only just brushed her knees. She suddenly felt exposed. A shudder worked it's way down her spine.

"What's the matter, Babe?" asked Masaya, pulling her closer.

"I-I'm cold," said Ichigo, wishing it was the truth.

"I can fix that," said Masaya huskily. Ichigo cringed at his voice. Masaya began to pull her into the alley.

"M-m-Masaya," she said. "shouldn't we stay where it's light?"

"And let people see us?" said Masaya. "not a chance. You know, Ichigo, I've wanted to be alone with you for a long time." He began to work his mouth towards her ear, and each word made Ichigo want to be sick. 'This isn't happening.'

Masaya pulled her closer, and began to nip her ear. Ichigo cringed, and tried to break away, but Masaya held her tightly. "What's the matter, princess," asked Masaya drunkenly.

"I-it's just, I, um, have to be back s-soon," said Ichigo. She tried to seperate Masaya's elbow from her chest, to no avail.

"What's the hurry?" Said Masaya. "You know Ichigo, you're a very beautiful girl. But you should be more careful what you wear around here. You wouldn't wanna get hurt." His hand began to snake under Ichigo's shirt.

Ichigo tried even harder to break away. "Masaya, don't!" she exclaimed. But his hand continued it's groping.

"Why not?" asked Masaya. "We've been dating forever. You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

Ichigo mentally cringed. Masaya's hand reached up for her bra. She tried to protest, but a hand over her mouth stopped her.

Now Masaya's hand rested over her bra, massaging her right breast gently. Ichigo squirmed, but couldn't break loose. Masaya increased his pressure on her breast, making Ichigo wince in pain.

Slowly, he began to fumble with her bra clasp. Ichigo wriggled frantically, but to no avail. Masaya had her pinned to a brick wall, unable to move.

The bra fell to the ground, leaving Ichigo feeling bare and naked. Masaya began to massage her chest, but roughly. His other hand had left Ichigo's mouth, and was creeping up Ichigo's skirt. Ichigo's mouth was blocked by Masaya's lips, keeping her from crying out.

Masaya had reached Ichigo's panties, and he was trying to pull them off. Ichigo tried to close her legs, but Masaya's legs kept her from doing so. Her panties fell to her feet.

Ichigo became even more desperate to get away, struggling with all her might. But it was no use. Masaya's hand withdrew from her bare womanhood, and began to pull off her shirt. in one fluid motion, Ichigo's chest was uncovered. as a blast of cool air hit her skin, she shivered. Then, Masaya tugged on Ichigo's belt until it came off.

Masaya's mouth moved to bite her breasts, hard enough to draw blood. Ichigo tried to gasp, but couldn't.

Meanwhile, Masaya's hand was busy playing with Ichigo's private area. His finger absently found her opening. As it did, Masaya smiled. he pulled back, stuffing his upper arm over Ichigo's mouth. He proceeded to remove his shirt and pants. Then, he began to lick Ichigo's breast and rub his erection against her crotch. Then, suddenly, Ichigo found herself shrieking into Masaya's hand, for pure pain.

Blood seeped from between her legs, where something had penetrated. Tears filled Ichigo's eyes. How could Masaya do this to her?

She could feel herself slowly drifting away, as Masaya began to painfully thrust in and out of her. soon, she could barely feel what was going on, until she fell to the ground, something wet seeping from between her hips. "Don't tell anyone," hissed a drunk voice. "Or I'll do that again, only times ten." And then, she was alone.


	2. blood and roses

A little Zakuro ran through the garden. Roses were growing all around on the gazebo and lattices. 'Life is so beautiful. When did it get this way?' 

She stopped to stare at the pond. Zakuro's reflection stared up at her. The water was smooth, the surface like glass. Zakuro's small hand reached down to feel the surface. Cool water seeped through her fingers. She watched it in fascination.

Suddenly, another reflection appeared over her side. She turned, but a rough hand clamped over her mouth. She was pushed near the pond. Zakuro tried to cry out, but she couldn't. A malicious face stared down at her.

"Daddy," she muttered into his palm. He pulled her over to a more secluded area of pine trees and wild violets. Zakuro was dragged around like a rag doll. 'But rag dolls don't feel fear.'

She could feel the hem of her pretty pink dress being ripped at. Zakuro began to struggle, fighting back with all her might. This demon wasn't her father! He was a monster!

She earned a kick to the shins. It hurt. A single tear fell from Zakuro's arm. But then she remembered what her Mother always told her. 'I have to be strong.'

The skirt of the dress was torn away. Her panties were next to be clawed at. Some blood fell to the ground, and she could feel her skin ripping. But then the underwear was of, and Zakuro was exposed.

She was pinned in place by a strong foot as her Father removed his clothes. Then he leaned forwards, smiling in a terrible way. Zakuro began to tremble.

Something was pushed carelessly between her legs, and she cried out in pain. a bit more blood fell onto the ground. Then, her Father began to ram himself in and out of her. It was pure Agony. Mentally, Zakuro screamed in terror. Pain washed over her more and more each time.

Finally, something wet poured into Zakuro. She was dropped carelessly to the ground like a broken toy. Her face hit the cold ground. Footsteps walked away.

Then Zakuro cried as loudly and deeply as possible, pouring her tears into the impassive earth. When finally she stood and pulled her skirt back up, not bothering with the panties. She turned to walk back to the house, composing herself. Nothing was the same. It was all so horribly, horribly wrong.

had the world really been beautiful? Had it all really been wonderful? Now Zakuro saw all the dying roses instead of the living ones. The trees around her seemed too big, too frightening, blocking out the sun, the only light. Was her reflection really once beautiful? Now Zakuro never wanted to see it again. It seemed ugly, defiled.

------

Zakuro woke with a start, covered in sweat. She shot up, studying her surroundings frantically. Then, she breathed a sigh of release. It was okay.  
Zakuro was safe.

she leaned back, closing her eyes. why her? Why?

Then, she looked over to her bedside table lay. On it was a picture of the workers of Cafe Mew Mew. She saw in it Keiichiro, smiling his warm smile.

"Would he smile like that if he knew?" asked Zakuro to nothing.

Fitting that nothing replied.

-----

A slightly older Zakuro stood in front of the fireplace. Her Mother was turned towards it, and Zakuro couldn't see her face. Then,

"You filthy WHORE!"

Zakuro stumbled back in fear. She knew she shouldn't have told her Mother about what happened. Why had she? Her Mother was furious.

"You wanted it, didn't you!? Don't deny it! You always wanted to ruin my life, you witch! You are not my daughter and if you tell anybody about this I'll tell them it was your fault! I wish you were never born!!!!"

Tears stung Zakuro's eyes. Before her Mom could see them, she turned away and ran down the hallway. She finally arrived outdoors. The minute she did, she ran to the hidden Gazebo. It was older than the other, and not as grand, but it worked as the perfect place to spend the next three hours. She would be found, and she would be brought back. She would be her Mommy's angel and her Daddy's girl, even though she was nothing to them.

She would fall this time. And this time, she wouldn't come back up again.

'Everything has two sides. I wish now that I could only see the beautiful side, as I could before. But now, for me, there is only the ugly side. Is there beauty any more? I don't think so.'

-----

This time Zakuro woke up with tears in her eyes. She brushed them away angrily, and turned to the clock. Time to get up. Perfect.

She got up and got dressed, putting on her pink shirt and a denim skirt. Then she turned and began to walk out, passing a picture of her, taken from a magazine cover. as she passed, Zakuro made sure to knock over the picture, in all it's insolence.

'where is the picture perfect girl?'

'Died and gone away.'

Like everything good in life. Zakuro smiled wryly at the cruel irony. But that's what life is, isn't it? It's all about the pain. It's all about the failure.

_'Where is the beauty?'_

'There is none.'


	3. sheath and Pictures

Lettuce opened the door to her apartment, letting it swing shut behind her. She bit her lip, trying not to cry.

The kitchen door was open. Lettuce walked in, surveying it for the millionth time. It looked cold and impersonal. The cabinets with their glass fronts were slightly off track and warped from age. The lighting was dim, and caused the mint green walls to look darker and the entire kitchen to look smaller. The one window overlooked a cement patio, which Lettuce never used.

All in all, it was a miserable room.

'But I am a miserable person. We match. We are both perfectly flawed.'

Lettuce walked over to the block of wood where she kept her knives. Pulling out the sharpest one, she studied it for a moment, before picking out it's sheath with careful precision. Then, she walked through the kitchen, back into the hallway.

When she reached her room, she kicked the door open, revealing another room. This one was more personal, though. The walls were a pretty lavender, and so was the bedspread. The bookshelf was weighted down from all the books that rested on them. A poster was on the wall of a famous composer Lettuce admired. Now, she didn't even glance it's way.

Her closet was her safe place. Lettuce went in there, she was perfectly safe. Nothing could find her. It was her alone time.

'Just me and my failure.'

Ever since Ichigo and Masaya had become a serious couple, Lettuce had envied them. What was it like to have a shoulder to cry on? Lettuce knew she didn't have one. Ryou didn't care. He'd leave her crying in an instant.

The closet door opened, and Lettuce turned on the desk light that sat at it's entrance. the closer immediately became bright. Lettuce found her usual seat against the wall opposite the door. She didn't even try to think about the blade until she sat down. Then, she pulled it out of her back pocket.

Lettuce's reflection stared at her sadly. Lettuce couldn't bear it. She turned the knife so she couldn't see herself, and then raised her wrist.

She had to choose the exact spot before she cut. The blade traveled around Lettuce's wrist, looking for the place where it would bite into her raw flesh. Finally, Lettuce found one. With expert precision, she let the blade slice through her skin. For one second, her reflection stared up at her. Then, nothing. Nothing but the crimson blood trickling down her arm.

'when did it come to this?'

When had Lettuce's love begun to cause her such horrible pain? When had her parents become much too distant? When had her friends become wrapped up in their own worlds? When? Was there even a time? If so, Lettuce mused, then it must be cursed just because of all her pain.

Would Ryou come and save her? Would he pick her up and carry her off? No. Lettuce supposed she had always, somewhere deep inside her, known this to be a fact.

But the face of someone else appeared in her mind, although Lettuce wasn't sure why. It was Pai. He had been visiting earth more, since the battle for the earth had stopped. 'But he'll leave too, sooner or later.'

Lettuce knew the worst part was coming. So she sat patiently in the dark, holding her bleeding arm away from herself, so that the blood trickled onto an old magazine. 'The blood can have it. I don't want it.' She didn't bother to mask her pain. When she was alone, there was no need.

Somehow, Pai's face floated back to the surface. She saw him, standing by the pond in the park. The aliens had found a way to pull their ears in, so that they looked human.

Pai had been watching the sun set, the same thing Lettuce had wanted to do. But she didn't want to interrupt him. Not after he had helped her out last week when she dropped her favorite picture of her family in the pond. Pai had flown out and recovered it, handing it back to Lettuce.

Before she could properly thank him, though, he made an excuse to leave, smiling a small smile before teleporting off.

Sure enough, the worst part was coming. Lettuce felt a lump form in her throat. She leaned back into the wall and prayed for the floor to swallow her.

'Yes, this is far worse than the blade.'

Tears welled in Lettuce's eyes. All her pain in a bittersweet liquid form. She put her head down, pressing her face into her knees.

When the first sobs came, they racked her frail shoulders. Tears soaked through her pants, and Lettuce's throat felt like it was being consticted by a snake. She could barely breath for the gasping sobs. But this time, for some reason, her lips called upon a new name for help.

"P-Pai-Sama. Pai-sama. Pai-sama. Pai-sama. Pai-sama. Pai-sama. Pai-sama," Lettuce called brokenly.

'And this is all I'll ever have. These quiet moments of delusional pain. These little lies I tell every day. It always adds up, doesn't it? The blood is the only thing that's real now. I have nothing left for me here. Nothing but this weak flesh. Oh how I wish I could end it all.'


	4. tea and letters

Mint sat at her patio table. She looked awful. Her eyes had bags under them, and her clothes were wrinkled. Sipping her tea, she looked at the piece of paper in front of her.

'I hate this.'

_Dear Miss Aizawa_

_We regret to inform you that your Father has had a serious stroke. After hospitalization, there was nothing we could do. The stroke had triggered a brain aneurysm, and he was randomly having seizures. By 7:53 PM, he had gone into a coma from which there was no hope of his waking up._

_His wife was driving over through a storm. By pure ill luck, a light pole fell. Mrs. Aizawa was found at about 8:02, and an ambulance was called immediately. Unfortunately, she had slipped away just before the ambulance arrived. _

_Shortly after, Mr. Aizawa stopped breathing. _

_We are very sorry for your loss._

_Sincerely, Arnold berrick, manager of the hospital._

Mint still couldn't believe it. Both of her parents, dead. It couldn't be. They had to come home. What would Mint do without her parents? Maybe it was her brother she was closest to, but that didn't mean she didn't love her parents! It couldn't be!

But Mint knew it was very true. Her parents were gone. In an instant, fate had snatched them from her. A single tear fell down Mint's cheek.

Why had it been her parents? Why not her? Mint leaned over her tea, suppressing the urge to cry out loud. Her Nanny had done all she could to console her, but Mint wanted her parents. It wasn't fair! Of all the people, why did it have to be her Mother and Father, her family!?

Mint's brother hadn't taken the news well either. He had broken down and sobbed over the phone line.

Lettuce had stopped by to say she was sorry, but Mint had refused to see her. She didn't want anybody seeing her like this, so weak and vulnerable.

The tea tasted bitter to Mint. Perfect. A living manifestation of her inner turmoil. She kept drinking.

Life was so out of sorts. Nobody had told Mint to change into clean clothes for the past two days, and nobody had reminded her to take a bath. She hadn't had dance practice since the news arrived, and Mint wasn't planning on having any anytime soon.

All in all, Mint had been pushing everybody away. She was sick of their false sympathy for her. They could all go to Transylvania, for all she cared. Mint only wanted her parents, but they weren't coming home anytime soon. 'Or ever again.'

What made tragedies? Was there someone up above who threw darts and random people and watched their lives fall into ruin? Was there somebody down below who had the same job? How did they choose? WHY did they have to choose in the first place?

'I guess I'll never know.'

Mint set her tea down, staring angrily around her. Why? Why did she have to love somebody who could never love her? Why did her parents have to die? Why did she have to be a mew?

"EVERYTHING is a flippin tragedy!" snapped Mint to nothing. "It all doesn't make sense!!!"

With that, she lay her head down on her arms and began to cry.

She cried for her parents. She cried for her brother. But mostly, Mint cried for herself. For her lost love and her parents death and her becoming an orphan and the funeral she was expected to attend. Her life was spinning out of control. Why did it have to be Mint's life that fell apart? Why did anybody's life have to fall apart?

Mint couldn't answer any of the questions. She could only cry harder and pray that nobody found her. She just wanted to be alone to mourn. She'd hate to have them staring at her, eyes brimming with fake sorrow, while really focusing on her appearance and her actions.

'I've hit rock bottom, and I hate it here!'

This thought made Mint begin to cry harder, resulting in a bad case of the hiccups. Now her shoulders shook for two reasons. Sobbing and hiccuping.

'Good thing no one can see me here.'

The tea lay forgotten. Mint didn't think she could stomach another sip, especially in her condition. But then again, who cared about tea? Not her. Not now. Now, Mint had bigger things on her mind. Her parents had always been there to shelter her from the world. But now, it looked like Mint was on her own.

'I'm so sorry, Mommy and Daddy, for all the times I was mean and selfish.'

'Too bad that won't make up for it.'

The whole garden was quiet, except for Mint's gasping sobs. She felt like she couldn't get enough air. 'This must be what it feels like to drown.'

'that's a good way to put it. I'm drowning, and I've lost my life jacket.'


	5. sprite and multicolors

Pudding wiped her brow wearily. All this work was starting to get to her. Honcha was sick, and he threw up every half hour. Pudding was expected to clean it up, of course. Even though Pudding wasn't doing so good herself.

"This is hard," she said to herself. "Oh well. Mom would want me to be strong, Na No Da."

"Pudding," said a small child's voice. Pudding turned and saw Heicha (A/N: is that right?) standing in the doorway. "I don't feel too good."

'Uh-oh.'

"Let me feel your forehead, na no da," said Pudding, putting on a cheerful face to hide her exhaustion. She walked over to her younger sister, and put her hand on Heicha's forehead. Sure enough, the small girl had a fever.

"Oh dear," said Pudding out loud. "Looks like you're sick, Heicha. Here. I'll make you a bed on the couch, and you can sit there till you feel better. I'll bring you some soda to drink. Come on." Heicha was too weak to protest as Pudding took her hand and led her to the living room.

"There you go, na no da," said Pudding. "You can sit here, Na no da." She tucked her sister under a blanket smiled, trying not to let her concern show through.

Then, she went back to the kitchen and grabbed a can of 7-Up. Pudding grabbed the ring on top to open it, but instead ended up with a cut. She scowled at the can of soda angrily and began to pull again. Nothing. Next she switched her finger's position. Pudding pulled with all her might.

The good news? It worked. The bad news? It sprayed soda all over Pudding, who wanted to cry in frustration. Instead, forgetting that the can was full, she dropped it to the ground and kicked it, resulting in a spray of 7-Up all over the floor that Pudding would have to clean later. "Stupid can!" she huffed angrily. Now was not the time.

"Sissy," said Hincha. (A/N: so I had to make up that guys name! I couldn't remember!) "Honcha just threw up again." Pudding wanted to screech.

"Tell him I'll be right there," she said through gritted teeth. Hincha just nodded and left.

Pudding managed to get 7-Up to her sister, but right then that was probably the least of her worries. Now she had a kitchen to clean, and a brother to tend to.

Grabbing some sprite, Pudding ran upstairs towards Honcha's room. "Hey Honcha," she said, walking into the door. She felt a little dizzy. "Here. You can drink this, Na no da." She handed him the sprite, which he just stared at.

"It's not open," he muttered, falling back onto his pillow. His limp hand passed the can back to Pudding.

"Oh, right," she said. Then, she pulled the ring off. It came off, but a spray of sprite shot into Pudding's face. She stood there, shocked, soaking with fizzy drink, her rather unkempt hair dripping lemon-lime pop.

"It must have gotten shaked up," muttered Honcha, who stared at the scene seriously, too weak to laugh.

"Yup," Pudding forced out, staring hatefully at the can. "I'll get another one, Na no da."

She proceeded to run down the stairs, sloshing sprite onto the stairs and her formerly dry shoes. Pudding made it to the first floor, and then ran into the kitchen, picking out a can of sprite. "This time you won't blow up," Pudding growled. She then walked carefully up the stairs, pulled the ring off, and wordlessly handed it to her brother, who stared at it in puzzlement.

"What's wrong with the fizzy orange drink I have now?" asked Honcha. Pudding stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around.

"Why didn't you mention that earlier, Na no da?" She tried to keep the dispair out of her voice.

"I didn't think I had any left, but I do," said Honcha calmly.

"Oh," Pudding said much to quietly, turning and exiting the room.

'great.'

Why her? Why Pudding fon that had to go through this? All her friends were probably shopping or hanging out or going on dates, and here she was, staying home with the possessed soda cans from hell and her siblings with the flu.

"I wish Tar-Tar was here," said Pudding to nothing. "This would be bearable if he was. I hope you come today, Tart, na no da."

'Pudding misses you.'

With that, the room took on an odd angle. Pudding fell over, grabbing something for support. It was the wastebasket. Well, that's what it appeared to be. Pudding was seeing multicolored spots, and so she couldn't tell. Leaning over, she felt her stomach flop over before she started to retch.

'Wonderful. I'm here and I'm lonely, and to top it off I'm sick.'

* * *

These were sort of the preview chapters. I swear the next ones will be longer. 

Citrus mew acid fire girl ultra supernova!

Some nickname, huh?


End file.
